


Good Morning Lethargy

by daymunallbran



Category: Blur, Britpop - Fandom
Genre: Bisexuality, Blow Jobs, Britpop, Champagne, M/M, Sexual Confusion, dalex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 21:33:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7657504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daymunallbran/pseuds/daymunallbran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damon and Alex have a night in alone at Damon's flat, having just a bit too much champagne to drink. One thing leads to another, and they're all over each other until Alex has one request...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Morning Lethargy

**Author's Note:**

> It's short, might be continued. If you enjoyed it and would like more, please let me know!

Confidence was like a warm flame radiating from Damon's chest with the way he'd been talking all evening long. He was splayed over the couch by the fireplace like some adonis German model, his skin highlighted with perspiration in the dimly lit room, his hair as gold and fashionably messy as ever. Alex swayed slightly in his spot by the stereo, one hand clutching a telltale champagne bottle, the other occupied with the volume dial. Damon spoke up. At least that bloody bassist had turned the music down so he didn't have to shout.

"Why'd you bring me here wivvout Graham...?" he murmured, thinking his voice was clear and decipherable, but apparently it was just slurred mumbles - Alex turned round, tilting his head back with a full swig of champagne before saying anything.

"What abou' Graham?"

Damon was toying with the threads of a knit blanket on the couch now, feigning an innocent expression the minute he met Alex's gaze. "He's not here. D'you fancy me? I thought you fancied that bloke from the award show. You were so close I thought you'd snog him right there."

" _That_ ugly bastard? Maybe I should've. Would it have made you jealous?" Slinking over on his long legs, Alex was soon reclining in the chair across from Damon like a femme fatale planning to make their next kill. He stroked back his silky fringe as smoke curled from the precarious cigarette clinging to his lip.

"You're fucking drunk," Damon retorted, wrinkling his nose, pretending to be disgusted - though Alex coming onto him was something he _loved_ toying with when he could. Not to mention, he was drowned in his wicked ego under influence of alcohol.

"And you're _not_?" The bassist smirked, uncrossing his lean legs to stand and make his way over to the couch, lowering himself onto it as if he was weightless. Sly and silent, he was. Like a cat. "I know you'd rather I snog you, you gorgeous cunt."

"Prove it," Damon bit back impetuously, stifling a lustful smile, his eyes dropping under thick lashes to study Alex's lips. His whole body felt hot, like currents of electricity were coursing under his skin, ready to be sparked by a single touch - he craved it.

  


" _Prove_ it?"

  
  


Without hesitation, Alex was pulling away his cigarette with a last drag, blowing the smoke out of the corner of his mouth, and leaning in to press his lips against the singer's before the smoke could finish its billow. It filled Damon's mouth with the crisp taste of cigarette. The blond's body melted at the contact, falling closer towards Alex as if he had to bridge a gap between them, hands closing on fabric and the bassist's limbs, pulling him in. The kiss lasted, teeth clashed, tongues dipped against each other, and breath was shared warmly, sending both young men into a heated state of relentless need.

Finally, it was Alex who broke the kiss, but only to continue them down Damon's neck, feeling his flickering pulse under the press of soft lips. And then there was the gentle pinch of teeth, making the singer flinch, his hands clawing for Alex's shirt. Soon enough, Damon had tugged the bassist's shirt off and thrown it to the floor carelessly, forgetting about it as his eyes glazed at the sight of Alex's square shoulders.

“We’re moving rather quickly…” Alex observed, his eyes glinting softly with the dim light. Damon was biting his own bottom lip, contemplating.

“Don’t you want to keep kissing me,” the singer mumbled, shifting closer to Alex, the sound of the couch the only thing to disrupt the taut silence. His hand reached to settle on the bassist’s bare chest, his fingers splaying over the pale skin, eyes meeting the other’s gaze. “I thought you’d be rougher when you were drunk…”

At that, Alex snapped. Damon’s hand was immediately snatched away by the wrist and the bassist had soon pushed him down into the pillows of the couch, leaning so close that he could smell the champagne and cigarettes. A sly smirk cracked on Damon’s lips.

To keep the blond from saying anything more, Alex’s mouth was on his again, hot and needy, his hands sliding down the formed chest of the man beneath him, eager to tug his shirt off. He didn’t even have to ask. Without so much as a broken kiss, Damon was wriggling out of his polo in no time, dropping it to the floor and reaching up a second after to run his fingers through Alex’s silky locks of hair. 

  
  


Time passed without acknowledgement, and the bassist was soon fumbling to get Damon’s jeans open, shoving a hand inside his boxers to caress the singer’s engorged erection inside. Kisses were erratic and unreliable by now, and Damon was sitting up on his elbows to watch as Alex’s head of sleek black hair lowered, leaving kisses down his chest. “C’mon, get to it, stop stalling,” he murmured breathily.

Alex didn’t play games, apparently - especially when he was drunk. Swift strokes with his hand accompanied his lips as he bowed his head to toy with Damon’s cock, putting on quite the show. Dark eyes lifted to watch Damon’s reactions, his free hand sweeping back his hair to reveal a gleaming gaze and sharp cheekbones. The singer’s mouth opened, a gasp slicing the silence, and a knit brow gave away his pleasured expression. Up and down bobbed Alex’s head, his lips even more pink than before as they worked away at Damon’s eager cock, making it a wet mess. It wasn’t long before Damon was sitting up even more, clutching the cushions, positive that he was on the brink. A hand went into Alex’s hair again, this time gripping it tightly. _Faster, faster, make me come._ It was all Damon’s drunk, horny mind could think.

Seconds later, the blond discovered his peak, the pleasure eliciting a strong gasp as his head tilted back, the muscles of his neck tensing, his stomach hardening - his entire body was gripped by an orgasm, overflowing into Alex’s pretty little mouth. Damon hardly noticed the bassist swallowing, but he looked to him in time to watch Alex wipe the cum from his square chin, a sated look on his face. “You’re a dirty bastard,” Damon breathed, sinking back against the pillows with a lazy expression.

“You think we’re finished?” Alex returned, grinning as if he’d made up plans for the whole night. “Come on, get up on your feet.” Apprehensive, Damon gave him one of those expressions that said he was not going to cooperate, a strangely confused and crooked smile, his brow furrowed.

“What are you thinking of doing?” he questioned, sitting up a bit more, starting to button up his jeans, trying to signal that he was finished for the evening - he was drunk, tired, and now he was thinking about how Graham would feel about this.

“No, get up,” Alex said forwardly, pulling Damon up by the arm.

“What the fuck!”

There wasn’t much time to protest before Alex was turning Damon around, his bare front pressed against Damon’s sloped back. “Let me fuck you…”

“You’re drunk, I’m not going to let you fuck me. Not in a million years. I’m not gay, Alex.”

“Not gay? You just let me suck your fucking cock, you prat!”

“I’m drunk, what do you expect!?” Damon barked back, ripping away from Alex’s embrace, standing and staring at him. “We’re not going to have a shag and then go on like it never happened. I may be drunk, but I’m not that pissed. Why don’t you just go home.”

“What’s wrong with it? Just because you say you’re a straight bloke doesn’t mean you are. I bet you’d let Graham do it. I bet you’ve fucked him before, right up the arse.” Alex’s usually low, seductive voice was now heightened with hurt, and he refused to look Damon in the eye. “You’re not losing any manliness by letting me do it to you.”

“Look, Alex, you’re probably just confused, it’s the alcohol. I’ll make you a bed here and you can sleep, how’s that. It’s not safe having you go home in this state anyway…”

Without another word, Damon left the room to collect blankets and pillows from the hallway cupboard, but was interrupted by the sound of the front door of his flat opening and closing. A second later, he was rushing into the living room, only to discover Alex missing from it, the second champagne bottle gone with him.

Going to the door, he opened it, stepping out into the hall just in time to witness Alex stalking down the stairs. “Alex, please!”

“Fuck off!” the bassist hollered back.

There was no use running after him. It would only end in an inebriated argument. Left in silence, Alex gone, Damon soon retreated back into his flat, closing the door behind him softly. He only shuffled a few steps to the couch before collapsing on it, clutching a pillow to his bare chest, staring at the dark ceiling. In no time, he was asleep, but feeling sick, and very guilty.


End file.
